


New World, Common Ground

by wintergrey



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Drabble, Gen, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-18
Updated: 2013-10-18
Packaged: 2017-12-29 19:34:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1009206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintergrey/pseuds/wintergrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Katrina adapts quickly, has more in common with Abbie than either of them expect. A drabble (is it still a drabble if it's 1000 words?) featuring Abbie and Katrina immediately after Katrina is removed from Purgatory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	New World, Common Ground

“How are you?” Abbie approached cautiously. Katrina stood at the window, narrow and rigid, a damp emergency blanket held tight around her.

“Tired. Cold. Guilty.” Her thin shoulders twitched at the last word.

“That sounds pretty normal, even for a good day.” Abbie held out a paper cup of too-hot tea.

“Does that surprise you?” Katrina took the cup but not before raking Abbie with a quick glance.

“Some, yeah. But it shouldn’t.” Abbie was slightly ashamed of herself as she admitted it. “Just like I shouldn’t be surprised we had to break into a notorious law firm to open a gate to Purgatory.”

“The reputation of lawyers has been consistent through history. We do have a sense of humour.” Katrina blew lightly across the surface of her tea and Abbie swore she could see a tiny swirl of ice crystals above the cup. “Witches, that is. And we have other feelings. As inconvenient as they may be.” Her pale mouth twisted at that last. “What I did to Ichabod, I did not do without regret.” 

Abbie looked out over the city, then drew back her gaze to focus on her own face reflected in the glass.

“He’ll get over it,” she said. “He understands.”

“The latter, yes. The former... men are sensitive things.” Katrina sipped her tea, then grimaced.

“Sorry. It’s from a machine.”

“Novel.” Katrina’s eyes widened and she held out the cup to take a better look. “I suppose the taste can be forgiven. The New World is practically mechanized by the look of it.”

“Some things, yeah. It’s not always for the better. The tea, for example.”

“Yes, but so much must be improved. Yourself, for example. Emancipated, employed as an officer of the law, dressed in a man’s garb without repercussions.” Katrina gestured at her before turning to wander the office. “I have no doubt prejudice runs deep still but I would not have dreamed a woman might bear a gun and hold such an office when there were men to do the work in her place.”

“It’s a start, at least.” Abbie watched her take in the room. Her eyes were bright, even in the faint light from the street.

“A communications device.” Katrina abandoned the tea to pick up the receiver from a telephone, then set it back in place. “The buttons... for code?”

“You punch in the number assigned to the other phone, then speak to whoever answers,” Abbie said. “That’s a land line, it uses wires. We have newer phones that you can carry around with you.”

“Military intelligence must be greatly improved,” Katrina said as she ran her fingers over a computer keyboard, then followed the cord toward the monitor. “This? An information machine.”

“Called a computer. Yes.” She was smart. Quick and curious. Abbie couldn’t help liking her for that.

“This?” Katrina ran her hands over the blocky form of a printer.

“Information goes there from the computer and is printed onto paper if you want a hard copy.”

Katrina shed the blanket and folded it neatly over a chair. “Show me?”

“How about dry clothes and a place to sleep?” Abbie wasn’t sure how to feel about the tug in her chest every time Katrina’s face lit up at something new.

“There is much I need to know. I have been sleeping for centuries.” Katrina began searching for a way to turn on the computer, poking at the keyboard and monitor. “I must be ready to aid you and Ichabod, to find and reform the coven.”

“I’ll get you a laptop. If you promise to get some rest.”

“Laptop?” Katrina paused, peering at Abbie through the bars of her damp bangs.

“A very small portable computer. I’ll even show you how to use Google. Drink your tea.” Her radio crackled. “There’s a car here for us.”

“Google.” Katrina scooped up the blanket and the tea, then drank her tea all at once before handing the cup back to Abbie. Abbie tossed it into the proper recycling bin.

“It can find information anywhere in the world.” Telling Katrina about it now might have been a mistake. Abbie ushered her out toward the elevators. “After you rest. You just got out of Purgatory. You’re exhausted.” The elevator doors slid open and Katrina stepped back so fast that Abbie ran into her. “Elevator. It’ll take us downstairs.”

“A lift system?” Just as Abbie was trying to work out how to convince the lady from another time to jump into a tiny mechanical box, Katrina hurried over the threshold and got to figuring it out. “Doors open with this button.” Abbie stepped inside. “Doors close with this one.” Katrina pushed the appropriate button and the doors slid shut. “G is for ground floor?”

“That’s the one. P is for parking, where people leave their cars.” This was actually kind of fun, in its own way.

“Were we really twenty storys up?” Katrina watched the numbers flash past. “I knew we were quite high.”

“That’s right.” Abbie paused, then added, “Ichabod still prefers the stairs.”

“Anything but standing still.” Katrina flashed Abbie a smile that faded a moment later as she looked away.

“Exactly.” Abbie wasn’t great at this kind of thing, and God knew she had a conflict of interest, but she put her hand on Katrina’s cold, bare, white shoulder. “It’ll be okay.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Katrina’s voice was tight. “I don't. There are far more important things at stake in the world than my situation. I have no one to blame but myself, anyway.”

“I know that one.” Abbie let her hand fall away, hooking her thumbs in her belt instead. “Doesn’t make it hurt less.”

“No.” Katrina shook out the blanket and wrapped it around her again, covering her bare shoulders and low-cut dress. “I’m sorry,” she said as the doors opened. “For whatever it was.”

“Same here.” Abbie stepped out with her, gesturing toward the glass doors and the police lights flashing out front. “For both of us.”


End file.
